


Too Bad That That's All I Need

by OhMyFreddy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Camping, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, M/M, Sam is underage at 17, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Sam, Underage Drinking, Which is apparently over the age of consent in this state.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5500592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyFreddy/pseuds/OhMyFreddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds himself press-ganged into an impromptu camping trip with his younger brother and their childhood friend. Around the campfire, things get heated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Bad That That's All I Need

**Author's Note:**

> My loves, this is just a trope-y mess, but I wanted to write something that was smutty and happy to give myself a break from some of my more angst-y, in-progress fics. So, I give to you fun, cliché porn in a fic where nothing bad happens. Also, holy crap, threesomes are hard to choreograph! Enjoy!

Spring was just stirring up, and Kentucky was decently pretty through the windshield of the Impala. It had been nearly a decade since the Winchesters had visited the farm of Ray Weber, although Dean remembered him fairly well from a few hunts away from his home since then.

This time, what Ray thought was the ghost of a locally infamous sheriff had just killed a third person, and with both bones and mementos salted and burned, Ray was stumped and displeased.

John wrapped up his loose ends in Indiana, and was barreling down Ray’s long driveway the very next morning.

Despite the pressure Ray was feeling from the hunt, he was all smiles and back slaps when the Winchesters mounted the stairs to his front porch. Sam endured comments about how much he’d grown with bashful good grace, and Dean had a funny, well-used retort ready when Ray commented on how handsome he’d become.

Ray laughed loudly and reached back to open the door for his son, who Dean could see stepping into a pair of boots through the screen door.

The last time Dean had seen Nathan was when he’d been here at his home. Dean had been eleven or twelve years old, and Nathan about nine, and Dean was at an age where, frankly, he found anyone younger than himself to be supremely irritating. Except Sam.

Nathan really had been a good host, for a kid. He showed Dean and Sam inside the fragrant, hay-filled barn, allowed them to hand feed apples and dried corn to an aging, grey mare, and invited them to play with the acoustics of the cold well in the backyard. But Dean remembered that the boy talked _incessantly_ , and stuck close enough that the toes of his shoes would occasionally meet Dean’s heels. And though Sam had been enjoying with smug satisfaction that he was actually taller than someone older than him, (yeah, it was becoming apparent that Sam, now seventeen, was probably done with feeling like the short one) he was accustomed to days filled with relatively quiet activities, and looked like Nathan was giving him a headache.

Dean and Sam hadn’t been rude to the kid, but Dean kind of wished he’d been friendlier. Nathan didn’t have any siblings, but he did have a mom. Dean had met her all those years ago. She was a veterinarian at Berea College, and worked two weeks there, two weeks home. Somehow managing to fund Ray’s hunts while staying out of them herself. Dean could admit that some of his and Sam’s impatience might have stemmed from jealousy. But the three of them were adults now. Clean slates and everything.

“Y’all remember Nathan,” Ray said, and the Winchesters all smiled and nodded, putting out their hands to shake. Nathan was still shorter than Dean and Sam, but no more than most people were. His hair was dark, short on the sides, but a bit longer with gentle curls on top. For a farm boy, he wasn’t particularly tanned, but the Webers were one of those stereotypical descendant-from-pasty-white-immigrants families. Climate could only do so much. Nathan’s eyes were dark, too, and reflected shyly when Dean grinned and took his turn shaking his hand.

“Lana, she ain’t home, boys, so while that means we get to blare the TV from dawn ‘til midnight, it also means a distinct lack of waffles and pot roasts.” The Winchesters laughed good-naturedly. “I’m sorry, I’m just not cut out for it. You boys take a load off while I talk to your daddy.”

Sam and Dean followed Nathan’s example of removing the shoes he’d just put on, and settled with him in the front room where, true to Ray’s word, a football game was flashing brightly across the screen. Nathan cleared his throat after a moment. “You guys want something to drink?”

After head shakes and ‘no, thanks’, the three let the television keep their attention and eat up the awkwardness.

~*~

 

“Now, don’t y’all think that I ain’t fully aware of the luxury of having three strappin’ young killers ready to attack for me-“ Ray winked over at Dean who was nodding with exaggerated enthusiasm, “But we’re a way’s away from the part of this mess that requires taking up arms. Your daddy and I are kicking you three out for tonight. He ‘n’ I will schlep through the paperwork and red tape, and you boys can get some bracing fresh air.”

Dean wouldn’t contest Ray’s announcement in front of him, but when he stood next to John behind the raised trunk lid of the Impala, he hedged, “You’re okay with both me and Sam takin’ off tonight?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Ray knows where the campsite is; if I need you, I’ll come get you. Just, Dean,” John stilled Dean’s hand where it grasped the handle of their cooler, “Do not bring those two boys back hungover and useless in the morning.”

“Yessir,” Dean said. John nodded once, and Dean had his permission to load the stocked cooler into the back of Nathan’s pickup.

~*~

 

Ray and Lana had plenty of camping gear for the boys to use. Hell, they even had a pile of chopped and dried firewood; Dean helped Nathan stack part of a cord into the truck. Sam and Dean nestled their duffles atop the rolled sleeping bags, then gave a final wave to John and Ray on the porch.

Nathan drove slowly on a rough dirt trail, past a few pastures and into sparse pine woods. In about fifteen minutes, they arrived at the edge of an expansive pond, picturesque between the surrounding trees and dotted with ducks. Nathan parked at the edge of a clearing on the pond’s shore, aiming the back of the truck to face a well-used fire pit.

The tent they’d brought was made for three, but no one argued when Dean expressed his own preference to sleep by the fire. They had the truck bed stripped, the fire blazing, the tent erected, and three fishing poles assembled before 2:00PM.

Dean inspected the glittery, squishy lure Nathan had passed to him. “What are we expecting to catch?”

“Bass,” Nathan answered, attaching another lure to the hook on the pole Sam held steady for him, “Maybe catfish.”

“I’ve eaten catfish. This isn’t dinner, is it?”

Nathan smiled at him. “No. If we catch any big ones, we can put them on ice, but I brought some things for dinner that’ll be a little less complicated.”

“I don’t think you’re going to be impressed with our skill,” Sam confessed.

“You don’t need any,” Nathan shrugged. He and Sam each took a handle on John’s green cooler, and joined Dean at the water’s edge.

~*~

 

It was turning out to be the opposite of Dean’s last experience with Nathan. This time, the more the younger boy relaxed and spoke, the more Dean enjoyed him. He was polite, but not stiff, and always laughed, blushing only a little, when Dean told crass jokes. He listened raptly to Sam’s every word, and fit in seamlessly with the brothers’ natural conversation. After two hours, they had caught a pair of fish each, though it was only the first of Sam’s that Nathan deemed fit to keep.

They retreated back to the fire, and stoked it high and bright, even though they still had some daylight left. Dean passed out beers, and Nathan didn’t hesitate in accepting one, so Dean let any niggling thoughts about being the responsible, adult one wisp away. Man could drink on his own property, after all.

Preparing dinner was _much_ easier than scaling and filleting a bucket of fish. Sam and Dean roasted the traditional hot dogs on sticks over the fire, (Dean wasn’t too proud to add a few marshmallows to his skewer, and he certainly didn’t mind the opportunity to watch Sam eat one, gooey and clingy, off of Dean’s fingers.) while Nathan boiled water over an old Coleman stove. The water turned out to be for making macaroni and cheese, and Dean and Sam laughed and shared that this might have been exactly the dinner they’d cooked if they weren’t here with Nathan.

“The innovative scenery makes up for the uninspired meal, though,” Sam teased.

After cleaning up, the younger boys joined Dean in roasting marshmallows, and when Dean offered a bottle of whiskey from his duffle to share also, the three of them scooted closer to one another to more easily pass the bottle between them.

In a lull, Dean remarked, “Nathan, I understand that your dad doesn’t really know me and Sam, but you just don’t seem like the type of guy that causes much trouble when your old man is researching for a hunt.”

Nathan’s mouth twitched up. “No, you’re right, I’m not.”

“Well, I mean, this is fun. I’m havin’ a great time.” Dean slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders, and Sam nodded in agreement. “But why insist we come out here?”

Nathan’s mouth shone wet with liquor in the mingled light of the fire and setting sun. “He thinks that shooting the shit with you two will be the perfect distraction for my poor, broken heart, I guess,” he deadpanned.

“What happened, man?” Sam asked.

Nathan rubbed his thumb in circles over a frayed seam in his jeans. Sam, who sat closest to him, offered him the whiskey again. Nathan took a sip and gave it back. Sam nuzzled further under Dean’s arm, angling so they could both see Nathan’s face.

“My girlfriend, uh, Ashley, she broke up with me this week, and Dad says I’ve been ‘mopey’”.

Dean’s shoulders relaxed. “Aw, man, let me tell you, that just leaves you ninety-nine better problems to focus on.” Dean smirked, and Sam put an elbow in his ribs.

“Yeah, thank God we have you as a resident love expert,” Sam admonished. Then his voice turned soft with the tender, sympathetic tone he was learning from Dad, the honey he was learning to use so well, where Dean was only ever good with the vinegar. “She was pretty special?”

Nathan took a moment before answering. “It wasn’t serious, I mean, but I thought it was gonna be. Tonight is, um, tonight is actually my senior prom,” he grimaced, but continued, “And she had kind of led be to believe that…um.” He trailed off, gazing into the fire.

Dean picked up, “Dude, you don’t have to say any more. You’re a catch, man. And this world is full of fine pussy.” That earned him another cold look from Sam.

With some tightness, Nathan said, “Doesn’t really make me feel better.”

Shit. Dean hadn’t meant to, like, trivialize his feelings or whatever. Probably should have listened to Sam. As usual. Dean kept his mouth closed, and sure enough, Nathan continued in a frustrated rush. “And it makes me more ‘mopey’ because I’ve been lying to my dad about that ‘Ashley’ is actually ‘Greg’, who my dad’s known from my basketball team for the past six years, and who, after four months of planning a ‘romantic prom night tryst’-“ Fuck. Those were some really angry air quotes. “-Decided this week that I could fuck off, and he could try _one more time_ to bring himself to screw a cheerleader.”

Nathan’s chest was rising rapidly, and the stroking he’d been applying to the tear in his jeans had become more of a clawing. He wasn’t meeting Dean’s and Sam’s eyes.

Dean wanted to try one more time to sooth him, now that he knew enough truth not to be an ass. “Dude, that’s heavy. Sorry you couldn’t tell your dad.” Sam nodded solemnly.

Nathan heaved a breath, and the poor kid looked significantly relieved. His tone was normal again when he answered, “I don’t think he’d freak out or anything if he knew, he’s just kind of hopeless with anything outside of his little comfort zone. Right now, hiding this shit from him is just easier on my sanity.”

Sam passed the bottle back to Nathan, and Nathan returned his smile when he took it and downed another nip. They sat for a few more minutes in contemplative silence, then Dean rose and rifled through his duffle to extract the issue of _Ratchet and Wrench_ he’d bought two gas stations ago. He settled back down next to the fire with it and the bag of marshmallows. Sam pulled himself closer to Nathan, and knocked his shoulder against the other’s.

“Greg’s an idiot,” Sam said.

Dean kept his face turned placidly towards his magazine, but he could see Sam in his peripheral. Sam wrapped his hand around the whiskey bottle, letting his long fingers overlap Nathan’s, so that they drug across as Sam brought the bottle to his mouth and took a slow drink, his throat right in front of Nathan’s face.

“He’s making a huge mistake passing you up.”

Dean couldn’t stop himself from letting his gaze drift up to watch as Sam changed from staring into Nathan’s eyes through those long eyelashes, to staring at Nathan’s parted lips, and peeking his tongue out to lick his own. Dean suddenly recalled the soft lures Nathan had given them to use on the fish. Nathan was wide-eyed, and Dean should probably put that bottle of whiskey away, but Sam waited with expert patience.

Sam was poised, frozen, until Nathan drew one inch forward, and Sam closed the gap between them.

Dean managed to read almost an entire sentence as he tried to give them some respectful distance. Nathan’s fingers came up to tangle in Sam’s hair, (who could blame him?) and Sam had a hand wrapped around Nathan’s bicep, pulling him closer and licking into his mouth. Sam drew away, and moved to trail kisses down Nathan’s jaw. Dean felt Nathan’s eyes on him immediately, and Dean couldn’t resist casting him a heated glance and a dirty smirk. At that moment, Sam turned to look at Dean as well.

“Do you agree, Dean? That Greg’s an idiot?” Sam asked.

Dean got to his feet, abandoning his magazine, and resettled carefully on the other side of Nathan, opposite of Sam. “I definitely agree.”

Sam had put his hands on Nathan’s chest, and gently pressed him into Dean’s space. Though Nathan looked utterly stunned, he put his mouth around Dean’s bottom lip with an excited gasp. Sam mouthed at Nathan’s neck while Dean bit and licked at his lips, until Nathan gripped his hands eagerly onto one of each of the brothers’ legs. Sam responded by slipping his hand underneath Nathan’s shirt. Dean took advantage of the strip of skin Sam had exposed to glide his fingers over Nathan’s hipbones before stroking them over the denim on his thigh. Dean inched his hand closer and closer to Nathan’s crotch, and with Nathan’s kisses coming faster and fiercer, Dean felt confident in carefully gripping the hard flesh that was stretching taut the front of Nathan’s jeans.

Nathan let loose a moan, and Sam hummed in agreement, letting his hands roam possessively up and down Nathan, all the way from kneecap to nipple. Sam was biting Nathan’s earlobe, and Dean whispered into Nathan’s other ear, “Do you want us to slow down?”

Nathan seemed unwilling to shake his head and dislodge Sam, and instead breathed, “No, no, don’t.”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?” Dean asked, adding a squeeze with his question.

“Yes, fuck yeah.”

“Stand up for me.”

The three of them got to their feet, pawing at one another, and Sam lead them a few feet from the fire, to the back of the truck. While he unlatched and lowered the tailgate, Dean eyed Nathan as he followed his little brother. Even completely aroused, with his face flushed, the boy didn’t wobble or stumble, except for maybe a bit at the end, where he leaned into Sam’s chest for another kiss.  The edge of the tailgate was digging into Sam’s lower back, but he didn’t seem to mind, letting Nathan explore his mouth before spinning him around to face Dean, who had come close to watch.

Dean put his hands on Nathan’s chest, and drug them down his stomach and hips as he went to his knees. Nathan watched, mesmerized, as Sam’s hands came around from behind, alighting on his torso and dragging down the very same path Dean’s had. Dean had stopped his hands at Nathan’s thighs, but Sam’s stopped higher, at the waist of his jeans. Peering over Nathan’s shoulder, Sam made quick work of Nathan’s belt, button, and fly, and held him close with one hand while the other reached inside his briefs to pull out his cock.

“Mmm, Nathan,” Sam breathed, pulling a stroke down his length. Nathan groaned, letting his head fall back onto Sam’s shoulder. He snapped it forward again when Sam firmly aimed his dick outward.

Dean licked his lips, staring up at the boys, and opened his mouth wide. Sam rested the tip of Nathan’s cock onto Dean’s tongue, and then rolled his own hips, pushing Nathan inside.

“Oh, _god_ ,” Nathan stuttered.

Nathan’s cock was just like the rest of him. Not as large as Sam or Dean, but smooth and pretty, with soft skin covering a hard interior, and Dean found that it fit nicely against his throat. Dean kept his suction gentle, but still took him deep and long, letting his lips touch the top of Sam’s fist where his little brother held him like an offering. Nathan had one hand on the back of Dean’s head, riding the motion of his bobbing. His other hand was twisted over, behind him, to grip the back of Sam’s head. 

Dean could see Sam whispering into Nathan’s ear, both pairs of eyes bright with lust. He watched Sam guide Nathan by the chin to kiss him again, but they couldn’t keep their attention off Dean for long. Sam loosened his hold on Nathan’s dick, but left his hand on him, extending out his fingers to caress Dean’s lips as they slid over Nathan’s shaft. Sam continued his whispering, and Nathan started nodding, his hips hitching helplessly farther into Dean’s mouth.

The motion didn’t hinder Dean, but he pulled away anyway, and asked, curiously, “What are you two talking about?”

Sam smirked, “That entrancing mouth you have.”

Dean came back to his feet and put his forehead against Nathan’s, enjoying the way the boy still panted with nothing touching his cock. “You enjoying what I do with it?”

Nathan nodded, rubbing his nose up and down Dean’s cheek as he tilted to taste himself on Dean’s lips. Dean leaned back, separating them, then turned his face toward Sam. Nathan’s eyes darted cautiously between the brothers. Dean grinned at Sam. “Yeah, you like it, too, don’t you?” Dean crashed his mouth against Sam’s, making sure to not spare his tongue or the show. He sucked on the tip of Sam’s tongue where he knew Nathan could see it, and reached for his cock, gripping the head and smearing saliva and precome over it with his thumb. Nathan whimpered at the sensation, but Sam held him close and upright.

Dean released his brother with a smack. He directed his attention back to Nathan. Oh, the poor kid looked completely overwhelmed. His eyes were wide open and liquidy, staring at Dean and Sam like they’d put him under a satyr’s spell. He had one hand roving urgently over the muscles in Dean’s back, and appeared to be applying the same motion to Sam’s. God, he was something else. Way to stroke a man’s ego.

“You know, Sam’s even better with his mouth.” Dean sunk again to his knees, and took Nathan’s dick back between his lips.

Sam had Nathan by the jaw again, kissing him feverishly, but this time, Dean could hear when Sam said, “Let me eat your ass.”

“ _Sam, Jesus_ ,” Nathan hissed, and from the way he bucked eagerly against his palate, Dean thought he seemed enthralled by the suggestion.

Nathan hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and underwear, fumbling a little, as Sam had his face occupied again. Dean reached up to help, sliding them down to his ankles and turning Nathan’s body to the side in one smooth motion. Dean resettled on his knees in the new position, having given Sam the space to crouch down behind Nathan.

Dean peeled off his overshirt and asked, “What do you think the chances are of us getting interrupted?”

Nathan started shaking his head. “It’s our land all the way to the highway. And we’re too far out from the house to walk,” he answered quickly. “My dad’s Jeep is nearly as loud as your Chevy.” He gripped the collar of Dean’s t-shirt in a loose fist, so Dean helped him remove it from over his head.

Sam guided Nathan to tip forward, and Nathan braced one hand on Dean’s bare shoulder, and pressed his other palm against the cool tailgate. Dean sucked a kiss into Nathan’s hip, gripping Nathan’s ass and spreading him open for Sam.

Dean couldn’t see Sam, but knew from Nathan’s shuddering groan when Sam’s tongue found its mark. Dean was put in a position that wasn’t exactly the most comfortable for sucking dick, so when Sam’s hands covered his, Dean slipped free, allowing Sam to knead and pry at Nathan’s ass. Dean put his own hands to work elsewhere, stroking wet up and down Nathan’s cock, and gently rolling and tugging at his balls. Nathan’s hand began an ascent up Dean’s neck and into his hair. He scratched and gripped and gasped above Dean.

When Dean felt the back of Nathan’s balls dampen with Sam’s saliva, he extended a finger until the tip of it met the bottom of Sam’s tongue. Sam immediately abandoned Nathan in order to suck the digit into his mouth, soaking it. Together, they pressed tongue and finger to Nathan’s slick hole.

Dean leaned back to look at Nathan’s face, but before he could ask permission, Nathan was pressing Dean’s head back toward his cock, pleading, “Do it, do it, please.”

Dean wrapped his mouth once more around the head of Nathan’s dick as he slipped the tip of his finger inside. Nathan’s dirty moan only encouraged Dean to go deeper, to slowly press his finger in to the knuckle, to tilt his head to slide further down his dick. Sam’s tongue was lapping steadily at Nathan’s rim, caressing and wetting Dean’s finger as he pumped it in and out.

Dean jerked when Sam’s hand suddenly grasped his straining hard-on through his jeans, demonstrating his mounting impatience by riling Dean. Dean slipped his finger free, and reached up to press Nathan more upright. It forced Sam to hunch to continue his ministrations, but the younger boy bent with ease, and Dean couldn’t resist reaching between Nathan’s legs to touch the long stretch of Sam’s neck.

Dean looked up and caught Nathan’s gaze. Nathan took Dean by the face, trying to tug him up for a kiss, but Dean was already impressed with the kid’s restraint, and he was ready to push him off the precipice. He resisted Nathan’s pulling, and pumped his cock in his fist. “Come in my mouth,” he said.

Then Dean pulled out his stops, taking Nathan’s dick in his mouth to the base, tonguing the slit when he pulled back, tightening the suction when he drove forward. Nathan was shaking with it, but both Sam’s and Dean’s hands kept him on his feet. Nathan moaned loud and long right before halting stock-still and shooting down Dean’s throat.

Then it was, “Fuck, _ohshit. Dean._ Oh, my god. Fuck.”

Sam was on his feet, cradling Nathan’s back against his chest before Dean even licked his lips clean. Dean rose to join them, and pressed his bare chest against Nathan’s shirt. Instead of giving him the kiss he’d wanted earlier, Dean opened his mouth for Sam, letting his younger brother taste the bitterness that lingered on his tongue.

Dean’s erection was scraping against Nathan’s hip, but it was Sam who’d started this operation, and it was Sam who got to drive.

Dean put a kiss on Nathan’s bottom lip, “Lemme just grab a little water,” Dean said to him.

He sauntered to the cooler, sliding a hand inside his jeans to readjust his aching dick, then detoured to his bag as he pulled a sip from a bottle of water. It didn’t take much digging to locate a little bottle of lube and a condom, and he tucked both into his pocket. He turned back to watch Sam.

Sam had his hands rucked up under Nathan’s shirt, the motion of them indicating that he was toying with the older boy’s nipples. Over the crackling of the fire, Dean could hear Sam murmuring, “God, your ass tastes so good. Can’t fuckin’ believe that prick would pass up the chance to get his mouth on you.” Sam bit at his earlobe and growled, “My gain, though.”

Nathan reached behind himself, and pressed his hand to where Sam was grinding his cock against his ass.

“Get it out,” Nathan begged.

Sam released him to do just that, pushing his jeans and shorts down to his thighs, and Nathan spun to face him, wrapping his hand around Sam’s bare dick. He smeared the slick Sam was dripping over the head and down its length, making Sam’s long cock glisten in the firelight. For a moment, he seemed fascinated with watching it appear in and out of his fist, and listening to Sam praise him and moan against his neck. Tentatively, he took his own dick, hardened back to full capacity in no time, and closed it up in the same fist that held Sam. He gasped at the friction.

“Fuck me,” he demanded breathlessly of Sam. His head turned toward Dean and his eyes roved lasciviously over his naked chest. “One of you. Either. Fuck me.”

Dean dropped his bottle of water and picked up his sleeping bag, where it lay rolled next to the boys’ tent. He strode back to the truck, and dumped it in the bed before getting his hands back on Nathan and Sam. He helped Sam to rid Nathan of his shirt, then Sam removed his own. Dean piled their discarded clothes into a makeshift cushion on the tailgate, and climbed up. He propped his back against his tightly rolled sleeping bag, and was quite comfortable.

Sam was on his knees, giving the occasional lick to Nathan’s dick, but mostly wrestling his feet out of his boots and pulling off his jeans. Sam got him down to naked, except for the socks, and then Nathan pliantly allowed Sam to guide his feet back into his unlaced boots.

“No lingerie?” Dean teased, swinging his legs back and forth impatiently off the tailgate.

Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled at Nathan. “Cold, wet feet turn Dean on, so we can try that next time.” Nathan chuckled, than gasped when Sam gave another suck to his cock. Sam then surged upwards to give a suck to his bottom lip.

Dean reached forward and put his hands under Nathan’s arms. Together, he and Sam positioned Nathan on his back, between Dean’s legs. Nathan’s knees were bent, with his ass and the heels of his boots on the edge of the tailgate. Dean cradled his shoulders against his stomach, and pawed at his hair, neck, chest, and stomach as they watched Sam peel out of his jeans.

The firelight backlit Sam angelically, haloing out from behind his head, through his hair, and reflecting off the light sheen of sweat on his shoulders, arms, and sides. Without preamble, Sam bent forward, and his mouth disappeared below Nathan’s testicles. Nathan jerked in Dean’s arms, letting loose a punched out whine. Sam’s hand appeared, his palm pressing and rolling Nathan’s balls, his fingers caressing the vein that ran the underside of his cock. Nathan was holding on with his hands on Dean’s thighs, but he lifted one when Dean slid his hand under it, lacing their fingers together tightly. Nathan’s hips were rolling minutely, and every other one of his breaths was coming out as, “ _Sam_.” Dean used his free hand to tease and pull at Nathan’s nipples, and that earned him his own name moaned from between Nathan’s lips. Dean watched as a bead of precome welled at the tip of Nathan’s cock, and ground his own erection into Nathan’s back as the drop caught a sparkle from the flames and dripped onto his stomach.

Sam rose up, and put his eyes on Dean. Dean manhandled Nathan over a bit to get into his front pocket, and pulled out the lube and condom. He laid them in Sam’s reach, where Nathan could see them. Sam reached for the lube and popped the cap.

“I’m gonna open you up.”

Dean couldn’t see what Sam was doing, but he knew the routine well. The heat inside Dean’s pocket would have warmed the lube nicely, and Sam would probably have been able to slip two fingers into Nathan’s hole with little resistance. Sam would carefully slide those fingers in and out, twisting around and spreading apart.

The tailgate sat a little too high for Sam to reach Nathan’s mouth, but he curled over him to lay kisses on his stomach and chest, biting for a moment on a nipple that Dean framed between his fingers. Then Sam turned his eyes to watch Nathan’s face, and Dean held him closer.

“Yes, there!” Nathan hissed. He jerked in time with the motion of Sam’s fingers coaxing across his prostate. Dean knew Sam didn’t need much direction, the kid was, good lord, the kid was a fuckin’ master. Knew how to turn a grown man into a trembling, needy cockslut with one hand, and, whoops. Dean loosened his grip a little, where Nathan’s knuckles were whitening.

No, Sam didn’t need a road map, but he responded immediately to Nathan’s words.

“Yeah, baby, tell me what you want, tell me what feels good.” Sam licked at the slick running down Nathan’s twitching dick. “I want you to love this.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem. Nathan was tossing his head around, scrubbing his soft hair across Dean’s chest. He took a shuddering breath and said, “God, Sam, just- ahh! More. Another.”

Sam must have obliged, and it sent Nathan’s body into a slow, languid roll. Sam stretched him steadily, and Dean held him whenever Sam’s precise fingering caused him to convulse. “Slower,” he requested, but Sam only got in a few strokes at the adjusted speed before Nathan breathed, “Again. One more finger.”

Sam withdrew to apply more lube, and Nathan panted toward the underside of Dean’s chin as Sam slid four fingers inside him.

Dean pulled his own fingers through Nathan’s hair, guiding it away from his forehead where sweat was making it cling. “God, you look delicious,” Dean muttered, and Nathan actually blushed further.

Sam pushed and stretched until Nathan’s breathing had steadied some, then removed his fingers and pulled Nathan’s calves until his legs dangled from the tailgate. Dean guided Nathan upright, and Nathen tipped forward further to wrap his arms around Sam’s neck and put his tongue in Sam’s mouth.

They pulled apart for air, and Sam asked, “You’ve done this next part before?”

Nathan shook his head against Sam’s forehead.

“You want to with me?”

Nathan nodded eagerly and sought Sam’s mouth again. Dean could see where Nathan’s hand was headed, and sure enough, Sam groaned as Nathan wrapped his fist around Sam’s cock. Sam hooked his chin over Nathan’s shoulder, and though Sam had been the most gentle and generous lover, the look he gave Dean was utterly predatory, triumphant and lecherous. Dean put a hand to his own aching dick, and Sam followed the motion with his eyes, licking his lips lewdly.

Sam pulled Nathan off the tailgate and onto his feet. Dean scooted forward to occupy the space at the edge as Sam steered Nathan to face Dean. Sam pressed at his shoulders, bending him forward over Dean’s lap. Dean pulled at Nathan’s hands to position them so that he could brace himself on Dean’s thighs.

But, Nathan’s hands slid higher, his fingers threading through Dean’s belt until he had it open. He popped free the button, and slid down the zipper, and only then did Dean lift his hips to give him the room to shimmy his pants down a bit. The color was high in Nathan’s cheeks, and he didn’t meet Dean’s eyes, just reached in his boxers to take out his throbbing cock, and wrapped the pink head in his hot, wet mouth.

It took every ounce of control Dean possessed not to thrust up into the clutch of Nathan’s throat. He looked away to seek some small distraction, but all there was was Sam, wearing nothing except the smug smirk of a man whose mission had been orchestrated flawlessly. Fuck, Dean had no idea what a conniving, splendid, powerful, glorious slut of a brother he was raising. Goddamn, why did Dean get so fucking poetic when his brain was in his dick?

“Nathan, fuck,” he groaned, and was satisfied that that didn’t sound lyrical or romantic at all. Nathan pulled at Dean’s cock with the confidence of someone who had done it before, but not with the finesse of someone who had much practice at it. What he lacked in skill he was making up for in enthusiasm, though, and Dean didn’t want to reach the finish line before watching the main event.

He carefully pulled Nathan up and off. Nathan starred up at him, and Dean bit into his own lower lip. “You’re gonna put me out of commission,” he explained.

Sam once again removed his hand from where he’d been slowly fingering Nathan loose, and tore open the condom. He secured it in place, and ran his hands decadently over Nathan’s back. “You ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” Nathan breathed into Dean’s lap. It must have been loud enough for Sam to hear, though, for he pressed forward with focused intensity. Nathan was quivering, clutching tightly onto Dean’s jeans. Dean could see his ribs expand and contract as he breathed evenly. Sam gave shallow and slow thrusts of his hips, until he was flush, balls against Nathan’s ass.

All of Sam’s patient prep work had paid off swimmingly. Nathan had the side of his head pressed against Dean’s open thigh, his teeth bared, but the expression on his face was one of pure ecstasy. Sam could see it, and he was grinning like an idiot, but, ever polite, he asked, “Nathan?”

“ _Saaaammmm,_ ” Nathan growled, and so Sam drew back and drove home again, pumping in earnest. Dean pet through Nathan’s hair, trying not to distract him from the sensation of Sam pulling in and out of his slick channel. “Oh- fuck-. That’s-“ he was barking in time with Sam’s thrusts. “God. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ good.”

Sam sped up and increased his force until Nathan was emitting only a low whine, his fists clenched into Dean’s jeans, before slowing to an achingly slow grind. Nathan responded with his hips, pushing them back in search of more friction. Sam stopped, and pulled Nathan upright, off Dean’s lap, still impaled on his cock.

Oh, now there was a view. Dean had ruffled Nathan’s hair into artful tufts, and his swollen lips and red-flushed skin made him look fucking succulent. Nathan reached behind himself and grabbed a handful of Sam’s ass. Sam reached forward to clasp Nathan’s testicles in his hand. As if on cue, another drop of Nathan’s precome fell to the ground before Dean’s eyes. God, the kid got so wet.

Dean watched as Sam held Nathan still, and gave one slow thrust, angled specifically.

Nathan trembled, moaning with his mouth agape.

“C’mon,” Sam whispered. “Let’s go forward.”

Sam kept Nathan tight against his chest, tight onto his dick, but shuffled them a couple steps closer to Dean. Before the tailgate could collide with Nathan’s navel, Sam pulled him to a stop.

Sam trailed his mouth from Nathan’s shoulder to his earlobe, and muttered there, “Let me watch you suck his cock again.”

Nathan opened his eyes and met Dean’s. He nodded, already licking his lips to a slippery shine.

Sam asked Dean, “Up on your knees?”

Dean obliged, positioning himself so that his knees were padded on the pile of their shirts, and let his jeans and boxers slip further down his thighs.

Nathan put his hands on Dean’s backside, and squeezed luxuriantly before taking one of his testicles in his mouth.

“God,” Dean choked, and when Nathan moved on to the second one, “Goddamn.”

When Nathan realigned his lips with the head of Dean’s dick, Dean put one of his hands over Nathan’s and instructed, “Just tap out if you need to stop.” Nathan didn’t respond, just started a snug glide down Dean’s shaft.

Dean wasn’t going to last like this, not with Nathan growing bolder and taking him deeper and deeper. Not with Sam keeping up a litany of praise. (“Fuck, you look incredible with that big cock stretching your mouth. Almost as perfect as this tight, luscious ass around me. Shit, you feel so good.)

Dean managed to gather his wits about him when he watched a tear escape from Nathan’s eye and trail down his cheek. Nathan hadn’t paused in his slow massage of Dean’s ass, but still, Dean cautioned, “Easy, Sam.”

Sam slowed, but still pressed deep, and Nathan began to shake his head, more tears spilling over his face.

Dean gripped Sam, bringing him to a full stop, and Nathan popped off of Dean’s dick, coughing. That made Sam bite down hard on his lip. Nathan kept shaking his head, then twisted it around to look back at Sam.

“No,” he gasped, “Don’t go easy.”

Nathan sucked Dean down, trying to maintain some kind of rhythm as Sam pounded into him, dragging the head of his cock unerringly over Nathan’s prostate.

Dean had to admit, watching this pretty virgin twink cry on his and his brother’s cocks was the most erotic thing he’d done all year.

And that was it, Dean had reached his limit. He threaded his fingers through Nathan’s hair, and guided him through a few final thrusts. He pulled Nathan off, drawing him to the side, and held his head  out of the way, against his thigh.

Sam didn’t waste a second. He leaned forward, bending over Nathan’s back, and took Dean’s cock to the base. Sam slid up and down on his brother’s dick, twisting his tongue into a dirty curl on the back stroke that had Dean taking him by the back of the head to slam him to the hilt. Dean spilled with a scream down Sam’s throat, and he cried out again and again as Sam swallowed around him, squeezing every drop out of his sensitive cock.

Dean’s head was swimming as Sam pulled off, and the next thing Dean was aware of was that the strong grip Nathan had on his ass was the only thing keeping him upright. Dean released both of the boys from where he had them by the hair, and Nathan allowed him to slump back onto his heels. Dean and Sam were both panting, and a tentative cloud of anxiety crept between them as they turned their attention to Nathan, to gauge his reaction. Dean understood, really. Kissing and tag-teaming were one thing, but the whole-

“Fuck, you two have ruined me,” Nathan groaned, and ground his ass down on Sam’s cock, before leaning forward to lap at Dean’s spent dick.

Dean laughed, relaxing, and moved out of Nathan’s reach. He hitched up his pants and tucked his cock back inside.  Quickly, he repositioned his sleeping bag so that he could recline against it once more, and laced his fingers behind his head to watch the boys’ finale.

Nathan braced himself with his hands on Dean’s shins, but Sam still held him high and close enough that Dean could see when Sam wrapped his hand around Nathan’s dripping dick.  Sam was thrusting hard and fast now, stroking Nathan in time. Nathan was humming and gasping each time Sam hit home.

“Nathan, please. Come for me.”

Sam jerked Nathan’s cock, once, twice, and Nathan moaned, shooting ropes of come between the brothers. Dean bit his lip and ignored the way his dick twitched as pearly white drops landed on the tailgate between his feet.

Nathan slumped forward, letting his head land on Dean’s knee, and clung to him as Sam set a jackhammer pace. Then faulty rhythm, a stream of swear words, and Sam shook as he held tight to Nathan’s hips, whining Nathan’s name as he rode out his orgasm inside of him.

Nathan gave one wince when Sam pulled free, but let Dean immediately kiss it from his face, and was turning to Sam, slack-jawed and satiated, when he returned from disposing of the condom. Sam held him tenderly, rubbing his nose through Nathan’s sweaty hair. Dean slid off the tailgate, in search of those baby wipes they’d used before dinner, but Sam grabbed him and hauled him back. Dean kissed his little brother reverently, letting his hand slide all the way from Sam’s shoulder blade to the curve of his ass.

“Love you,” he murmured into Sam’s mouth, and finally pulled away.

He passed out wipes, and Sam and Nathan carefully cleaned one another of sweat and lube. Dean cleared the pickup of their evidence. If he had a nickel for every time he’d cleaned jizz off of a car…

The three of them dressed for sleep, and Sam didn’t ask permission before moving Dean’s sleeping bag from the truck’s bed and unrolling it inside the tent. Nathan stoked the fire again, then sleepily crawled onto the center sleeping bag. Sam and Dean crowded close around him, and after Nathan pillowed his head on Dean’s bicep, Dean knew nothing until morning.

~*~

 

Dean’s stretching jostled Nathan awake, and Dean peered at him closely, nose to nose.  Dawn was barely illuminating the interior of the tent, and the two of them blinked slowly to keep the other in focus.

Dean knew last night’s whiskey hadn’t been enough to get Nathan drunk, but sometimes the light of morning, no matter how softly it filled a space, could make one reevaluate his choices.

Nathan sighed, and extracted his arm from the depths of his sleeping bag. He encircled Dean’s waist, and tucked the top of his head under Dean’s chin.

Dean was itching for a cup of coffee, but he found that could stand one more hour in the warm tent.

~*~

 

When Dean woke again, he was certain it was Sam’s faint snoring that had roused him. He kissed Nathan’s head, and crawled to the entrance of the tent to pull on his boots. He looked back inside before he zipped it closed, to see Sam cough himself awake enough to roll onto his side and pull Nathan’s back into his chest.

There wasn’t really a way to set up the stove and percolator quietly, so Dean hadn’t even poured his first cup before he heard shuffling and groggy voices inside the tent. When giggling started, Dean rolled his eyes, but perked his ears up with interest when the smacking and humming that accompanied kissing reached him a moment later.

Before enough time had passed for it to get arousing, however, the buzz of the zipper announced Sam’s emergence. Sam leered at Dean like the fox that caught the field mouse, and Dean could only shake his head and scrub a hand over his mouth. Sam crept over and settled against his side, smirking.

“Am I too much for you, old man?” he asked lowly.

“Nah. I always knew I’d go to Hell with you.” He kissed Sam leisurely. “I’m just trying to come to terms with you leading us there.”

~*~

 

It was an hour later, Nathan was tossing marshmallows for Dean to catch in his mouth, and Sam was dumping packets of sugar into an aluminum cup of coffee, when the rumble of Ray’s Jeep echoed into the clearing.

It was John who climbed out of the driver’s seat and greeted the boys. He refused the cup of coffee Nathan offered, and complimented Sam’s bass when Dean held it aloft to show him.

“Get in,” John called to them, motioning to the Jeep. “Turns out Ray was lying about serving cold pizza for breakfast.” He pried Sam’s cup from his hand. “Let’s get you some orange juice, son.”

Sam scowled with approval as John dumped his cloying concoction onto the ground.

The Jeep’s engine was masking the sound of their growling stomachs when John said, “Ray and I still haven’t gotten to the bottom of this haunting yet. You boys fine with camping out here one more night?”

Obediently, the three of them chorused, “ _Yes, sir_.”

~*~

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Troye Sivan’s “TOO GOOD”. Please ask or tell me anything, my angels!


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